Thursday, February 25, 2016

Oh Man, I spent a lot of Time on This

In the interest of content, I have delved back into the dark recesses of Things I Wrote in Graduate School. That is to say, things I wrote in either my first or second graduate degree. In my defense, I wasn't studying writing. Don't blame Vermont for this. Blame the Methodists.

Here is a good example of what I spent a lot of time doing back in the day. Now I just enjoy books for their own sake. It's a better life.

If you get to the end, let me know. I'll owe you a cookie. And probably a drink or four.

When asked whether the world needed
more Christian writers, C.S. Lewis replied, “No.We need more writers who are Christian.”This tongue-in-cheek statement belies a
fundamental tension in the relationship between theology and literature (or
theology and much of popular culture).Lewis
points out that a work’s theological value does not necessarily stem from its
creator’s explicit intentions.He
succinctly uncovers a difficult question:What makes a work theologically valuable to a Christian reader?Or, in terms of popular fiction, what gives
certain books more overall theological
value than others?Can such
determinations even be made?I will
argue here that they can.First, I will
explore the ways in which theology are communicated (whether it be
intentionally or unintentionally, explicitly or implicitly) through literature.
Secondly, I will borrow wisdom from the “secular” fields of literary analysis
or the analysis of popular culture and use them as dialogue partners in a
conversation between theology and literature to determine a work’s theological
value.I hope to demonstrate that
literature (especially popular fiction) is a field in which theological inquiry
is necessary and fruitful.

Perhaps
the best way to start exploring theology in literature is to look at works that
make no attempt to disguise their theological intents.Such books borrow figures, places, sacred
“objects,” and themes from religious traditions and use them as devices around
which new plots are formed.In this way,
authors seek to either make old stories new, reframing them in ways that let
modern audiences understand their impact afresh, or they wish to add on to
where ancient texts may have “left off.”

One
such example of this use of (specifically Christian) theology in literature is
the phenomenally successful Left Behind
series.In this fourteen-book series,
authors Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye share their vision of what the Book of
Revelation would look like if it played out in the 21st
century.I would argue that there is
little doubt these sorts of books, those written by Lewis’ disparaged
“Christian writers,” mean to be explicit in their theology.But what does this mean?What are they doing in being “theological” in
the first place?James Nieman gives a
useful working definition of what theology as whole seeks to do in his article Attending Locally: Theologies in
Congregations.He says theology
involves ultimate claims that offer support, renew traditions, sponsor
institutions and produce impact (that is, the ideas seek to bring about some
concrete change in the world).This is
what Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins are trying to do through their books.They make ultimate truth claims:there is a God, the Bible is the inerrant
word of that God, and that when all that is prophesied therein comes to pass, and
people living today could endure the consequences.The books reassert the importance of the
Christian tradition, especially those parts of it that emphasize repentance and
literally following the Bible’s commands.The Left Behind series seeks
to build upon the traditional Christian Church (a specific definition of which
would come from Tim LaHaye, as he is a minister himself) and wants to impact
people so that they become (literally) God-fearing Christians.

There are two
other ways in which a book can make ultimate truth claims that offer support,
renew traditions and impact the world (but usually to a lesser extent, support
institutions).Literature of this kind
communicates an author’s own theological vision through intentionally
allegorical story or a seemingly non-theological story that asks the reader to
consider questions concerned with ultimate truth.C.S. Lewis is a prime example of an author of
this type.Many scholars argue that his Chronicles of Narnia series was a
blatantly Christian allegory, but Lewis himself did not see the books this
way.Rather, he wanted to write about a
world that was created perfect (as he felt all worlds were, since they were
created by the God he knew through the Christian tradition) but then fell.Narnia was not Earth, it was not meant to
“represent” Earth.Rather, it was
another world entirely that shared the characteristic of being populated with
beings with free-will.Humans (from
Earth) ushered in the “fall” from perfection, but so too did they help restore
peace and balance.Aslan, the Savior of
Narnia, was not an allegory for Jesus per se.Rather, Lewis wanted to create an entirely different Savior, because an
entirely different world would require such.Lewis was not trying to disguise the Christian story.Rather, he was trying to creatively explore
themes of the fall, sin, grace, redemption, and the question of, “Who is God?”
in a fictional world.

Lewis explored
similar themes in other works like The Screwtape
Letters, Till We Have Faces, The Great Divorce and his Space trilogy.Lewis’ explicit intention to explore
Christian theological themes, however, is not unlike other author’s implicit
theological questions to readers.I think
any writer who asks a reader to question to what is ultimate in creation, what
is true about the world, how humans should treat each other and creation, what
norms of authority shape how people live their lives, are doing something
theological in their work.One does not
have to have characters who are savior figures, devils, saints or angels to
challenge readers’ worldviews.Just look
at all of the books Oprah Winfrey picks for her powerful book club segments on
her show, for example.From Maya Angelou
to Elie Wiesel, from William Faulkner to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Oprah picks
books that she feels will change how people view themselves and the world
around them.She wants literature that
will connect her loyal following with ultimate truth claims that offer support,
renew or create new traditions, sponsor institutions (in this case, ones
offered in the consumer marketplace) and offer impact (as Oprah’s “Angel
Network” motto says: “Use Your Life!”).

It is not
difficult to demonstrate that there is (and has been) theology in popular
literature since the first scribe put stylus to tablet.What would the Psalms and Gospels be, if they
were not also appealing poetry and prose?However, proving this or even
establishing the different ways in which theological themes are used in such
works is not enough.We must go further
to determine how a person concerned with theology’s use in written examples of
popular culture can find the theological
value in a given work?After all, should
the Left Behind series be equated the
same theological merit as Augustine’s Confessions?Are Oprah’s book caucuses the new Councils
determining a post-Biblical canon?Who
is to say that secular society is not searching for some new written works with which to shape its core values?In answering these questions, it is useful to
turn to the fields of literary and cultural analysis.

Bruce David Forbes
and Jeffrey H. Mahan have edited several books about religion and popular
culture.They designate four ways in
which one can view theology:theology in popular culture, popular culture in theology, popular culture as religion, and popular culture and
theology in dialogue.We can extend these categories and substitute
the word "literature" for "popular culture" here.The first step in theologically analyzing a
literary work, then, is to decide into which category a work might fall.I would classify the Left Behind series as popular culture as religion (just check out
Tim LaHaye's web site), whereas Oprah's book club is theology in popular
culture (though Oprah's sway over the masses could give LaHaye a run for his
copious amounts of money).Being able to
put a book into one of these categories is in some way proving its theological
importance.For a book to be a part of
popular culture it must be, after all, popular.Even if the effects are subtle, the work is nonetheless affecting real
change in the world.This thus falls
under Nieman's definition of what makes something "theological" in
the first place.

Further
methodologies applied to literature by cultural analysis are diverse, but nonetheless
have common bonds useful for the discussion here.Feminist literary theory, for example, would
have much to say about Left Behind in
concert with theology.One of the main
tenants of feminist literary, especially in the work of scholars Maggie Humm
and Mary Eagleton, is demonstrating the tendency of authors to show women as
the “other,” and as dangerous extensions of untamable nature.The Left
Behind series is quick to establish its premise that the “natural” state of
the world is fallen.I believe Humm and
Eagleton would argue that all of the female characters are treated as an
extension of this natural, fallen world.

Women in Left Behind are cast into opposing
categories—life-giver or the barren destroyer, virgin or whore.Men, on the other hand, are the complex beings
created in God’s image, using their free-will first in thought, then action.Women are captive to sin like a volcano
is—they erupt to one inevitable, unfortunate result simply because that is how
they were created.Men can think and can
therefore be sinners saviors.In the analysis
the narrative, feminist literary critique would point out the flaws in painting
women in such a negative, unrealistic light.After all, humans are rarely all demonic or saintly.If this view of women is intended as a theological one (which it is, if we continue
to use Neiman argument that such a view tries to offer support, renew
traditions, sponsor institutions and produce impact), it is a dangerous view—theological
or secular—in relation to women (and the world!) indeed.

Literary criticism
does not just help point out flawed theological thinking in works of fiction,
however.On the contrary, giving a text
a “deep read,” can often uncover subtle spiritual suggestions that might have
otherwise gone unnoticed.Postmodern
literary criticism is a good example of this, especially because it tries to
challenge the distinction between high and low culture and dissect texts that
try to blend to the two. Oprah Winfrey’s
book club regularly features books selections ranging from Bill Cosby to Leo
Tolstoy; she practically is a
postmodern literary theorist by meshing these choices into once “curriculum”
for her viewers.All of Oprah’s book
selections seek to explore the “loss of the real,” a term coined by theorist
Jean Baudrillard.Baudrillard shows how
modern words take signs to represent reality, distort that reality, shows that
there might not be a reality below
for the signs to represent and then show signs bear no resemblance to anything
actually “real” at all.Oprah believes
this; her show tries to empower people to make their own reality.She wants to demonstrate that people have
“real” spirits and there are “real” things in the world that can direct this
spirit towards good (or even God).A
postmodern literary analysis of (I would argue) all or Oprah’s book club suggestions would show that Oprah picks
books authors who tell of characters who travel through Baudrillard’s four
stages, but who then reconstruct their reality as the conclusion.Oprah’s authors reiterate the postmodern
dictum that all reality is contextual (or that there is no “reality” per se),
but they then make the theological claim that “signs” (like the Church, for
instance) can be re-imagined to still offer support, renew traditions, sponsor
institutions and produce impact.

Ultimately, it
could be argued that none of this matters; maybe a book is written just to
entertain or to tell a story that is not meant to be theological.Still, an author never knows what a reader
will get from his or her book.So, any
book can be critiqued from a theological standpoint (though I will admit that
not all should).At the same time, a
book can stand on its own in a reader's mind and challenge the quiet
theological assumptions of a given religious institutions.Books can bring down empires.Books can save lives.And I believe some writings may be the
inspired Word of God.Thus, the
relationship between theology and literature may remain an uneasy one, but one
with more power and potential than perhaps any other area of culture.